Since we're coming up on New Year's, and the ubiquitous New Year's resolutions, I thought
this article about trying to figure out
why we get addicted -- to drink, drugs, and in my case food -- was very timely and useful.
...If our own accounts of our actions are often so slanted and embellished, is composing them simply a misbegotten quest? Surely not. To a therapist, the attempt signals that patients are aware that they have a problem worthy of attention. And the narratives themselves can help them make sense out of confusion. This, in turn, can diminish anxiety and exaggerated guilt. Such relief might be sufficient in and of itself for some, or, depending on the goals of therapy, it could embolden a patient to make further healthy adjustments.
But the grail-like search for insight can also backfire when it becomes a way for patients to avoid the hard work of change... insight has no guaranteed relationship to change. A colleague of mine treated a 45-year-old woman, Joan, who came for therapy because she hated her chunky body. Joan firmly believed that once she discovered The Reason for her overeating she would stop.
After a few months, Joan told my colleague that her father had developed cancer the year she went off to college.
“You know, I never made the connection until now,” she announced triumphantly, “but I started overeating when he began to waste away. It’s like I was trying to nourish him through myself.”
A poignant metaphor, yes, but months later she hasn’t lost a pound.
Please read the whole article, because it's great, but I can sum it up for you here: Navel-gazing is all well and good, but get off the couch and do your pondering on the treadmill.